


A Happy Day

by Dannycangetitright



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Sad, i dont know how to tag this, i wrote this to mirror how i was feeling today, just in a bad spot and venting, this was so rushed and quick but so relieving to write out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 15:16:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7579099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dannycangetitright/pseuds/Dannycangetitright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, perfect day, huh?”<br/>Matt promised him a happy day. He was happy and content on that day.<br/>“Perfect,” Matt repeats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Happy Day

**Author's Note:**

> So i wrote this in the span of an hour after seeing the prompt about it somewhere on tmblr to vent out a lot of feels...so like... here it is for you all to read in it's badly written primal form. 
> 
>  
> 
> Read this in tandem to Swing Life Away by Rise Against or Future by Paramore...or like whatever song comes to mind reading this (i'd like to know)

The terrible blare of his phone woke Matt with a jolt, his brain rattling to find the source of sound suddenly, his senses then focused with an unpleased glare on his face to where the loud klaxon device added and mingled with the rest of Hell’s Kitchen noise. He sighed as he ignored the ringing and tried fervently to drift off again, counting off other familiar, tedious sounds to lull him to sleep.

What the hell? Who would be calling him on his phone this late?

The phone’s beeping died out as he had idled too long to grab it.

It wouldn’t have been Foggy or Karen. They didn’t even have that many big cases to deal with this week or any other worrying plights that usually riddled Matt’s life and his friends. There was a peaceful rest that had lasted for months now and he was just happy for it.

He settled to leave it for the voicemail. It wasn’t worth answering when he felt so tired and haggard. Last Matt had checked with his audio clock— and the lack of warmth of the suns basking— it was well past midnight.   

The phone rang again and Matt uselessly covered his ears. The phone died out again and he sighed with hopeful relief.

Minutes passed by as Matt grumbled back to sleep.

It rang just as he was drifting off again.

Matt reached his hands out, his senses telling him the phone was just on the edge of the night stand.

With a quick remembered slide of his fingers he answered the phone with an aggravated voice.

“Who the hell is this?”

There was a pause, like someone’s breath was hitching. It exhaled with a gruff chuckle.

“Hey, Red.”

Frank?

“Why are you calling me, Frank? It’s the middle of night for Christ's sake.”

“It’s 2:00 in the morning. Besides I thought you were a practicing insomniac.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want sleep sometimes.”

“Sorry to bother you, Red, just…wanted to hear your voice. Keep talking,” Frank added when Matt got quiet as he contemplated if Frank would elaborate.

“Talk?”

“You know, bout what happened, 'catch me up on your day' kinda thing. Do I gotta explain everything for you choir boy?” There was a playful tone to his words, tinging it in every thick drawl of his accent.

That was strange. Frank hardly ever made calls like these before, never one to personally ask for things of such nature.  

And if he did, he’d always do that in person. So this was a strange surprise for Matt. Frank Castle rarely ever had time for being sentimental in such a far off way.

Nonetheless he wasn’t peeved too much to hear from his ex-soldier now and again, especially since he’d been gone for a secret assignment for a while now. “We saw each other a week ago, Frank, before you went on your little secret mission,” Matt smiled a little forlornly.

“Right, our date night, at that fancy restaurant. First time I ever saw you in a suit that fit properly,” Frank cooed. If Matt listened closely he almost thought he sounded wistful.

“You looked good, too,” Matt gushed out in a small smile as he swayed his feet off the mattress and on the floor. He gently rubbed his eyes out and listened to Frank's breathing.

Frank’s soft chuckle was too gravelly. “Like you could see for yourself. But, seriously, you… you looked… handsome and beautiful,” Frank lilted gruffly as Matt’s hearing picked up on the tiniest sounds of scraping.

“So I take your mission is over now?”

“Yeah.” There was another hitch to his voice. “It’s over now for good.”

Matt beamed out to no one in particular in the room. He’d be home soon and that was enough to make this unannounced phone call worth the slight annoyance. “Get home quickly. I won’t ask for your death count and resent you for it, I promise.”

“No bad guys had to die today. Just one, I guess,” Frank laughed. Matt rolled his eyes. It was always typical of Frank to talk so lightly about everything.

“I’m glad you’re taking a more pacifist approach.”

“Maybe you’re just rubbing off on me, becoming a softy like you these past years now." Frank pauses as he sighs loudly. "I ...I think if we started teaming up again we’d work this time now. "

Matt paused himself. This was too amiable of Frank, sounded too forlorn for Matt’s liking.  “And why’s that?” Matt said, trying to understand where this soft spoken man had come and replaced his gruff, sarcastic soldier.

“You think we’d retire together as super heroes Matt?” Frank says suddenly that it hits Matt unexpectedly.

His name being called alarmed him more than what Frank was implicating. Frank never used his real name unless for special circumstances. It was a rare commodity in his vernacular that Matt was always keenly aware of.

“Are—are you okay Frank?”

There was a pause on his end this time. Matt didn’t like it one bit. The silence was worse than his uncharacteristically soft spoken tone. “Just peachy.” Frank said with a garbled cough.

His blood ran cold as he heard him spit out the blood. Matt notes that Frank had tried to keep the speaker away when he did that.

Fear and grief were marring every single one of his features as he ran down to the living room to find the home phone. “I’m calling 911, fuck, Frank, where are you right now?” Matt rushed the words out in panic.

“Saved two little kids,” Frank said so simply that Matt stopped himself in his tracks, slowly sinking, dropping himself to the ground and propping himself against the brick wall in utter despair and consternation as he realized what Frank meant. "You always said I was reckless," Frank sighs. It guts Matt to hear him like this. 

The memory flickered like a flame to spurn him to those dark thoughts. 

He remembered a child’s harsh screaming, remembered the grunt as Frank sprinted away from the safety of the flipped over table, remembered the terrible sound of bullets piercing through leather and flesh.

Matt remembers the violent thud of his body on the ground as he protected the small child caught in the fray of bullets.

Matt remembered how his fingers had trembled on Frank’s prone body when he rushed to him after incapacitating the two shooters with his Billy clubs.

He remembered relief when Frank's heartbeat came through and lived on. 

It was a horrible memory to find himself reliving now without that same relief. Matt didn't know why, but he knew there was no respite to this. 

Matt’s grip on his phone was crushing.

“How—no, no, no, fuck!” Matt yelled as he banged his hands on the ground painfully. “Frank you idiot!” he yelled so petulantly and unreasonably. He didn’t care. He was losing himself in a panic attack, in fear, in despair, in every single horrible emotion he felt when he found his dads lifeless body on the ground. "You can't, no you can't just call me like this." 

He's gonna be gone just like him. 

“Matt…” Frank says so softly that Matt stops banging his hand on the ground.

Matt flinches from the pain of his bruised hand. “There must be something, you can— we can...there's gotta be a way," Matt says, so fleeting, so idealistic, so helpless. 

“It’s bad, Matt, real bad. Bomb blew up, shrapnel caught in my chest, but luckily the phone in my pocket came unscathed,” Frank continued as he laughed but Matt stopped listening in that moment because he did not want to hear this.

He did not want to hear the man he loved breathe out in pain.

He did not want to hear the man he loved dying.

He did not want to hear the last time he’d hear him.

But at the same time, he listened, because this was the only thing he’d have for the rest of his life.

“My glory days are coming to an end. Can’t move my legs even. Hell, I’m a pretty broken mess that’s glad you’ll never see me like this." 

“Don’t you say that,” Matt says sharply into the phone. He doesn’t even try to argue the fact that this is the last time he’ll be able to smell, hear, or sense Frank.

Matt can tell from how defeated Frank's words are. It's in the way he's not fighting, no spark to his words, of him giving in to the inevitable now as he calls him one last time. 

Frank’s breathe hitches painfully and Matt’s heart breaks apart.  

A sob stifles out of Matt’s throat as he tries to speak out comforting words or angry ones. He can't tell right now. Everything is mixing together and pooling in his stomach like a poison.

“Hey, Red, don’t cry, c’mon, you know I hate that. I didn’t mean to word it like that.”

“I don’t care what you think right now! You’re dying and I’m not there to fucking save you!” Matt yells hoarsely, he coughs out a sob as bangs his head against the brick wall, the pain grounding him enough to keep the phone in his grasp and not fly out of his hand in contempt. “I’m not there to be with you.” Matt adds so quietly he doesn’t even think Frank heard him.

“You’re with me now,” Frank says in a sigh. “Last thing I wanted to hear was your shitty voice." Matt bites his tongue to chide Frank for being so goddamn cavalier about everything. All of this is like some big joke. It makes Matt seethe with anger and frustration, boils in his stomach and pit, but it all dies out. Matt's known Frank long enough that it's Frank's best defense mechanism from pain. 

There is tired groan that comes out of Frank's mouth, the sound of shuffling and scraping accompanied, like Frank's trying to prop himself up on something.  

They both just listen to each other breath for a little while. Matt doesn't know what to say right now. He can't even form words properly at the moment.

Frank's voice breaks through his thoughts, piercing them intently. "Tell me about your day. No vigilante stuff though…just…the happy stuff.”

Matt tries and fails not to rip his hair out at the word last. He sniffs loudly into the speaker phone and clears his throat for a while when he finally speaks. “So, ugh, I woke up late this morning." God does he sound so haggard right now, like every vowel, no, like every consonant hurts to say out loud. It's so final, what he's saying. The last day he had knowing Frank Castle still. Matt realizes a bit too late that he stopped mid sentence. "I...I didn’t have time to cook breakfast, so I went to the little dinner we like and had your birdy burger special.” He feels a bit numb, recounting his day like nothing terrible is happening. 

“I could use one right about now,” Frank laughs. "So damn hungry." Matt's lip quiver in the tiniest ways as he holds the phone close to his ears. 

Matt continued, taking in Frank's last words and memorizing them tenderly. “I got to work late and was reprimanded by Karen and Foggy, but I brought coffee so I was forgiven. We worked ourselves to the bone working on Mrs. Cardena’s case, she’s not going to take the crappy bargain she was given, we're not letting that happen to the rest of our clients.”

“Not on your watch, huh?” 

“Never.” Matt makes it a promise now. 

Frank hums thoughtfully and Matt smiles forlornly as he recalls his day. “I took a cab ride to the park and just walked around for a while after I was done with casework with Karen and Foggy. I thought it'd be nice for a walk. I liked the smell of the old pine trees and oak all around me the best— soaked in more sun since you always say I’m pretty pale.”

There's a low chuckle as Frank groans again and Matt tries to not break at that moment. “Sickly pale, like death kissed your skin. Continue,” Frank says when Matt pauses at the words death. Frank Castle is dying out somewhere on the ground in god knows where.

So he continues his story. It's the only thing he needs to do now. Only thing he has to do. 

“When it was just about evening I got home and fed Max his treats and played with him for a bit. I regretted not bringing him to the park. He would have loved it.”

Frank hummed lowly in appreciation. “I’m gonna miss that mutt.”

Matt didn’t try to say he was going to miss him too. Frank must already know by now. “We both had steak for dinner and got enamored with reruns of SUV until we dozed off on the couch. I woke up and then got ready for bed… and…well, here I am,” he awkwardly finishes. It seems small but it's really all Matt can grasp on what he did for today. He hopes it's enough. It might never be enough in the end for Matt though. 

“So, perfect day, huh?” Matt can feel the smile on the other mans lips, knows it in the drawl and tone. It's infectious enough that Matt smiles too. It doesn't reach his eyes just right though. 

“Perfect,” Matt repeats. It's a lie. 

Matt promised him a happy day. He was happy and content on that day.

_Only thing missing was you._

“Hey, Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

There was no reply this time.

 


End file.
